SLOTTSFJELL
TØNSBERG, NORWAY | JULY 18th-20th
It’s become a bit of a ritual of late, heading to some beach on the Adriatic with all the other Brits abroad to indulge in a bunch of DJs, most of whom pass through our own home towns quite regularly. Don’t get us wrong we do love it, but this year Crack decided to switch it up a bit and head northwards to a little festival in Norway called Slottsfjell. What we found was about as far away from the usual scenario as we could have imagined.
Day One
Starting with an invigorating dip in the fjords, some shrimps and champagne (how else?), we got to the site in time for our former cover star, Daughter. Lead singer Elena seemed overwhelmed by the response from the sea of bronzed blonde teenagers at the front. A deserved response from where we were standing, as much thanks to the tight, dynamic musicianship as the emotional hooks. Alt-J followed on the main stage just next door, again with some accomplished and interesting playing but not much in the way engaging performance.
Our first taste of Scandinavia’s unique approach to the heavier stuff came once we arrived at the top of the site. Looking out over the fjords we watched a group of clean-cut youngsters, looking fresh out of a Topshop ad, dancing around in the sunshine to the relentless beatdown thrash of Hatebreed. As the frontman explained, it was all about positivity.
Hot Chip on the main stage induced another surprising response, with the majority milling about, staring into the middle distance while the band ploughed through their hits. Later that evening Crack shared some backstage grub with Joe Goddard who didn’t seem that bothered, more focused with the quality of the fried chicken than how the show went (the chicken was fantastic).
Kaizer’s Orchestra headlined Thursday; a local institution playing one of their last ever shows. Literally every person was into it; young, old, blonde, mousey blonde, really blonde. Perhaps we weren’t blonde enough to get it. Not to say that these guys weren’t fascinating, not least the lead singer who pranced around the stage sing-talking some theatrical tales, jumping on and off of two custom-made pedestals to perform cocky gestures towards the fans. The problem was the music itself. The band are credited with being the one of the first Norweigan speaking groups that don’t play Black Metal, what they do play is somewhere between watered down Rock and some kind of incessant Gypsy Circus music.
Day Two
On Friday morning we set out to find some local delicacies that would be more to our taste. The results were pleasing.
Firstly El Perro Del Mar, a pop duo out of Gothenburg, Sweden and our first encounter with something vaguely electronic. The subtle atmospheric beats underpinned lead singer Sarah Assbring’s 90’s esque vocal lines perfectly. The perfect road to recovery after the previous night’s oddities.
Down the bottom of the hill came the more eagerly awaited Truls, described to us as a large Norwegian Justin Timberlake. We found it closer to The Weeknd with a lung full of helium but either way it was winning. Most enjoyable was his cover of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game, climaxing with an unexpected key change where the singer reached heights that we’re sure must have set off a car alarm down the road somewhere.
Nearly every track from Kendrick Lamar was a sing-along, catchphrases on t-shirts were dotted around as were screaming teenage girls. Proof, if it was needed, of the universal appeal of hip-hop and Kendrick’s effortless fusing of the old and new school. He finished up with The Recipe asking the crowd “who wants to come back to California with me?” which went down a storm, although to be honest we were starting to wonder why you would ever leave Norway by this point.
As the sun finally began to dip we climbed the little mountain one more time to see Bonde do Role. The tiny stage seemed ill equipped to hold the four wild Brazilians dressed in a selection of animal onesies. While the talent on display may have been debatable; the amount of energy was not. The show consisted of one member putting on a backing track, then a lot of screaming and stage diving, stage storming, stage diving on top of the stormed stage and then more screaming. We were blown away.
Day Three
We began Saturday with local band Bendik, whose wailing from backstage sounded like someone being very slowly slaughtered. Thankfully from where it was supposed to be appreciated it sounded better. The wailing remained but the lead singer’s intensely serious stage presence and a very solid drummer brought it back. The turn out was small but die-hard fans stood out. One guy held his arms in the air, mouthing every word, another girl waited until the final note of the last song before passing out cold in the dust.
More seriously heavy stuff on the sunny mountaintop, Converge came with some mind-blowing modern hardcore, which demanded everyone’s attention. As with Hatebreed the lead vocalist seemed to be a thoroughly nice chap and very flattered at the smiling response to his terrifying screams. Next Chad Valley played on the little stage next door, with his trademark reverb soaked falsetto vocals and triggered electronics, a delight especially with the fjords as a fitting backdrop. Swedish singer songwriter Tallest Man On Earth pulled a huge crowd. Particularly impressive being sandwiched between Converge and Bad Religion on the bill, yet more proof of the method to Slottsfjell’s madness.
Talking of madness, the last thing we went to check out was Dan Deacon. The Baltimorean oddball’s show was closer to playtime for grown ups than a traditional concert. Beginning with five minutes of genuinely amusing banter, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Following with a track, backed up by two drummers, he then got everyone roped into a series of games culminating in a seriously freakish group dance off. Having spent at least half of his time slot making everybody lose their shit he finished up with a couple of extended dance tracks, and everyone lost their shit some more.
All that was left was to hit the after party in a nearby warehouse were we caught S-Type and some much needed abrasive electronics from Redlight, followed by TEED who dropped some house gems. We stumbled out into the 3am sunrise, still puzzled as to what exactly to make of it all. One thing we were sure of is that we’d had a right good time discovering a very unique festival in a very unique part of the world.
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Words: Jack Lucas Dolan
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